Irresistible
by Bellairian
Summary: Phryne and Jack are in the giddy first stage of their new relationship. Getting to this point was a bumpy ride, and they encounter a few more bumps afterwards. Phryne teases Jack to the point of distraction, and Jack is determined to give her a taste of her own medicine. But the views are amazing and each finds the other irresistible.
1. Fog of Desire

_In my S2 stories, Phryne and Jack's intimate relationship finally began after they returned from Maiden Creek; if not right after the hat scene then very soon after._

_A/N: June 5, 2015: I updated this chapter with the two final scenes that eluded me for nearly a year._

-ooo-

Phryne Fisher considered herself a connoisseur of the male species and indulged whenever a specimen to her taste presented himself.

She spent more time with Jack Robinson on a daily basis than anyone else, so it was only natural for her to consider him as a possible candidate.

Of course he was.

She liked that he could carry unconscious women down long corridors and deposit them gently and carefully at a suitable location. It was too bad she couldn't remember her own experience, but she had seen him carrying Lila Waddington and Beatrice Mason so she used her imagination. She took his arm whenever she could, enjoying the feeling of his bicep flexing under her hand.

She liked his close-shaved cheeks shining in the light, never any nicks or missed lather behind an ear.

She liked his profile, always surprised by how long his eyelashes were and how much younger he looked from the side.

She liked his eyes, with the kind of irises that absorbed the colors and light around him so she never knew which shade of blue she would see when she looked into them.

She liked his voice, especially his occasional low rumble.

She liked the way he could smile at her with the merest quirk of eyebrow or lips. He could frown at her the same ways. She usually ignored him when he did that.

She liked his lips, wondering what other great things they were capable of.

She liked his hands, suspecting they were also capable of great things.

She liked his scent of soap and wool and starched cotton – and something else that intrigued her very much – something she detected only when they were very, very close.

She wondered what it would be like to find the source of his elusive scent.

She knew all his layers of wool and cotton would have to be removed first though, and Jack had shown absolutely no sign of succumbing to her charms. Thus far he had deflected almost every hint she threw his way and refused to follow through on the few he responded to.

So she idly speculated and indulged elsewhere. But she wondered every time they were very, very close.

...

Until everything changed. She started wondering in earnest when she saw him emerge from the water at Queenscliff.

Long, muscled legs striding toward her. The hint of cock and testicles at the top of his thighs. The curve of biceps and lines of tendons in his arms. Pectorals and tiny nipples and tight abdomen and slim waist highlighted by the wet fabric clinging to his torso. The hair on his arms and chest drying to gold in the sun. Confident, supremely masculine, nearly naked.

It was as though his elusive scent had taken corporal form and it nearly brought her to her knees. Her first impulse was to rip off his suit and wrap her legs around him and inhale his scent until her lungs were filled with it.

Luckily a tiny part of her brain kicked in. What she _allowed_ him to see was a nonchalant, flirty appraisal from behind dark glasses – exactly the kind of thing he would expect her to do – before turning her attention to the dagger in her hand.

What she did _not_ allow him to see was she knew at that moment idle speculation was no longer an option.

...

As time went on Phryne _thought_ she had every reason to believe Jack might have started playing her game. Instead of immediately deflecting, he sometimes flirted back. Occasionally he even flirted first. By the time he tossed her those smoldering, tantalizing looks at the foot of her stairs, at the football game, she reckoned he must feel the same way she did, surely. How could he not? What else could he mean? What else could he have meant when he said he was feeling reckless? What else could these delightful flirty evenings be building to? It could only mean he was ready. Or ready enough to let her tip him over the edge.

Sitting close to him at the game, she caught his scent and it sparked the ember of desire that had started on the beach. Sitting close on the loveseat, she caught it again, sparking overwhelming desire, and Phryne felt she needed to know, _right now, tonight_, what it would feel like for him to carry her to bed, what his lips would feel like on her breasts and what his hands would feel like on her bottom. She needed to know what he would say when he was moving over her and if he would smile when he was moving under her. She needed to know what his voice would feel like rumbling between her thighs.

She needed to know all these things so much she forgot everything she knew about Jack. That he believed he would be only another of her casual conquests. That he believed she would cast him aside like the others. That he would not indulge simply for the sake of indulging. That his sense of self-preservation was just as strong as hers.

...

She pushed too far, too fast and he reacted badly with "I won't be just another one of your flings" and fled before she could respond or defend herself.

What Jack didn't know was how far he had breached her defenses. That he was the only man she trusted and cared about enough to allow into her life. That her nonchalance with him was mostly a façade by this point. That she knew he would not be a casual fling and was willing to consider the consequences.

Nothing could change until they understood these things about each other.

Then, if they could accept the implications, they could know everything about each other. Until then, they had to find another way forward.

...

They avoided one another for weeks, too embarrassed and frustrated and angry to make the first overture towards reconciliation, but missing each other desperately all the same.

Gradually their work pulled them back into the same orbit and the rift between them slowly diminished to the point that their equanimity was restored. When they were finally back to sharing a drink and engaging in their usual teasing banter Jack said something which Phryne responded to in her flirtatious way and she impulsively stroked his lapel to emphasize her comment.

"I've missed this," she said, smiling brightly, "I'm glad we're friends again."

Jack captured her hand and gently held it in place against his chest. "I've missed this too," he replied. She felt his heartbeat quicken under her palm and their hands rose as he took a breath. "I've missed _you,_" he said quietly.

She gazed up at him and felt the smile slip from her face. She understood the look on his face the moment their eyes met.

For months, intent had been a delicate thread in the veil of desire that had overlaid their words and their thoughts and their gazes. It had glimmered for split seconds, tempted into the open by any one of a dozen suggestive remarks or tantalizing glances or fleeting touches. It had vanished swiftly in the face of disruptions wrought by any one of a dozen employees or criminals or relatives. It snapped and broke just before he fled her parlor.

Something had changed in the weeks they made their way back to each other. Intent was a substantial and resilient thread now. Anyone could interrupt, anything could happen and it would not withdraw to a secret place. The house, the city, the world could disintegrate around them and intent would remain whole in the rubble.

He knew it. She knew it.

He took the first step and she moved to meet him. She half expected him to hesitate, but he didn't, kissing her eagerly and confidently, his hands roaming over her back and waist, pulling her close. Phryne returned his kisses just as eagerly, melting in to him and pressing even closer until there was no absolutely doubt where this was leading.

They broke apart, breathless, and stood toe-to-toe, wordlessly searching for the answers they needed to find before they could take the next step.

She didn't feel her usual sense of urgency to take control or show him what _she_ could do. She knew she wanted him and thought she was probably in love with him. He was the partner she never dreamed she would want and she wanted to know what they could do. But before they could go forward she needed him to accept, without reservation, everyone and everything in her life before this moment. Recriminations over her past had no place in their future.

He didn't feel his usual need for self-preservation. He no longer cared about her previous lovers. She was the partner he never dreamed he would find and he wanted to know what they could be. He knew he was in love with her, knew he wanted her in his life more than he had ever wanted anything, but before they could go forward he needed her to understand it simply was not in his nature to be able to share her.

Jack finally broke the spell, knowing he had to lay his soul bare before he could go on. "Phryne, you have every right to live your life however you want to," he began. "I understand why other men want you. _I_ want you. But if we do this, I need to be... I can't…," he paused, willing the words to come. "I need you to choose me."

She laced her fingers with his to keep him close while she said what she needed to say. "I want _you_, Jack. If we do this, you have to trust me you will be the only one. From this moment on it's you and me." She kept hold of his hands, anchoring him, but as she held his gaze she knew he wasn't leaving this time.

His brow and the corner of his mouth ticked up into the tiny smile she loved so much. "You and me. I like the sound of that." He traced the curve of her cheek and took the next step. "I want you," he breathed. "I want us."

She nodded and moved to meet him. "I want us too."

...

"Jack?" Phryne asked much, much later.

She was curled into him, so close he felt her breath ghost over his chest and she felt his response vibrate through hers. "Mmmm?"

"What made you change your mind?" Phryne shifted, just a bit, so she could look up to him while she waited for his answer.

Despite the fact he had never done anything like this and had no idea how things would work out, Jack felt exhilarated, as though anything and everything was possible. He also felt unexpectedly lighthearted. "And you call yourself a detective?" he teased.

She propped up on an elbow, eyes widening in delight as she held his gaze. It boded very well indeed if her reserved Inspector was able to tease her after a bout of breathless, passionate lovemaking and a second round that was slower and even more delicious.

"It's a reasonable question, Jack," she teased him back. "I waited practically forever for you to make up your mind."

Still feeling elated, he quirked a brow and gave her a look of disbelief mingled with affection. "Forever is a bit of an exaggeration, isn't it?"

"It _felt_ like forever," she grinned as she shifted and pinned him beneath her. "And you know I don't like waiting."

"No, patience is not one of your virtues," he gasped as she teased her body over his. He couldn't tell her all his reasons just yet – how much and how long he had wanted her, when he knew, months ago, he would fall in love with her – but there were some reasons he could admit right away. "You're beautiful and intelligent and funny and kind and I simply couldn't resist you any longer."

"Those are very good reasons," she purred against his jaw. He rose to meet her as she began moving against him. "I think you're irresistible too."


	2. Waking

_Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed Chapter 1. I really appreciate your comments and support. _

-ooo-

_Phryne and Jack are in the first giddy phase of a committed relationship and they encounter a few bumps along the way. But not in this chapter. _

-ooo-

Phryne Fisher is incandescently happy she and Jack Robinson have finally found a way forward that includes waking up together.

The views are marvelous.

Occasionally Phryne wakes first and watches Jack sleep. Long limbs relaxed, hair completely mussed, the angles and planes of his face softened, eyelashes fluttering at the top of his cheek. Sometimes she thinks she can see the snub-nosed boy who rode his bicycle through the wilds of north Richmond, farther than he had ever gone before. She never wanted a boy of her own, but she is always surprised and grateful when she has the chance to see a hint of the boy he once was.

The man is always there though. A man with a glorious adult body, bare chest and abdomen rising and sinking as she watches him breathe. He sleeps with far more abandon than she thought he would, usually on his back, left arm flung upwards with his hand resting on the pillow above his head. If his right arm isn't around her it is usually at his side, hand resting on his stomach. A line of dark gold curls starts just below his navel, widening as it reaches his cock and testicles nestled at the top of his thighs. One leg is usually straight, the other bent slightly at the knee, the covers thrown off and tangled around his feet and calves.

Phryne _loves_ Jack's body. If she had only known what was under all those layers of wool and cotton she would have forsaken all other bodies for his months ago. He is just the right length for her, thick, heavy, perfectly filling her hand and mouth and body when he is hard. She loves the way Jack feels inside her.

When she wakes before Jack her reaction is always an utterly primal need to pull him into her mouth or her hands until he is hard and throbbing and she can impale herself on him. Or be impaled. It doesn't matter which. The ache to feel him inside her blocks all rational thought. On those mornings he is awakened by her nose pressed to his chest, hardening in her hand. Or her fingers tangled in the hair on his chest, hardening in her mouth. It doesn't matter which. Sheer instinct takes over and one of them moves to get _him_ inside _her_ as quickly as possible.

Jack expected Phryne to sleep with more abandon than she does. Some mornings he wakes with her body curled away from him, her right cheek buried in her pillow, her left leg bent over her right. His reaction to her bottom presented to him is always an urgent need to be inside her. On those mornings she wakes to him stroking her from behind, nuzzling her neck and shoulder until she stretches and turns to him so he can catch her nipple in his mouth, kissing it awake.

Jack _loves_ Phryne's body, especially her breasts. He loves looking at them, touching them, kissing them. They are the perfect size and shape for him – big enough to be full below her nipples, small enough to fit perfectly in his big hands. Her nipples are perfect for him too – the palest pink until they harden and turn a darker pink, darker still when they were impossibly tight.

He pulls away to press his lips into the soft roundness of her breast, erection pressed against her back, and her breathing quickens. Then she turns and opens to him, and he runs his hand down her belly to the top of her thighs, his fingers dipping into her folds and stroking, his mouth on her skin and breasts until she gasps and he settles his body between her legs and finally sinks into her.

Usually though, Jack wakes with Phryne pressed close to his side, and she wakes to the feeling of his stretching limbs beside her. On those mornings she snuggles closer to him so she can run her palm over his skin and feel the muscles flexing as he stretches. She wraps her leg over his and slides her foot down his calf, legs pressed close, skin pressed close, and stretches with him. Coming back to the waking world like this with him is as intimate as making love – breathtaking moments of closeness and vulnerability and trust before full consciousness returns. Then delicious anticipation when he pulls her close – a sandpapery cheek brushing hers, gravelly "mmm"s and "morning"s rumbling in her ear, sometimes enveloping her with long limbs, sometimes running his hands over all of her he can reach, sometimes just tucking her hair behind her ear and taking in the sight of her, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Almost invariably they nestle close to each other, kissing and murmuring and caressing for long minutes before the inevitable need to take turns rushing to the bathroom. Phryne likes to go first so she can devote her full attention to watching Jack walk back to her, reliving the breathtaking reaction she had when she first saw his nearly naked body at Queenscliff beach. Jack likes to go first so he can devote his full attention to watching Phryne's bottom sway as she walks away from him and her breasts bouncing as she walks back to him, reliving the incredible reaction he had when he first saw her nearly naked body on the stage at the Imperial Club. Regardless of who walks away and back first, the welcoming embrace, usually back in bed, sometimes in the middle of the bedroom, is always breathless.

On the mornings Jack has to leave early to get to the station, he doesn't walk back to the bed and Phryne watches him as he shaves and brushes his teeth, muscles flexing lightly, bare skin shining in the early morning light flooding through the window, the hair on this chest and legs and arms blurring the firm lines of his body. Inevitably she needs to press her nose into his chest and inhale his scent and feel him grow hard in her hand or against her belly. If he isn't running late, he leads her to the bed, settles her on her back or on her knees, and presses thankfully into her body. If he is running late, he pushes her away regretfully and dresses, a hint of his length outlined against his trousers as he kisses her goodbye. If she is feeling particularly mischievous she strokes him through his trousers, smiling saucily as he groans and turns away.

When she wakes alone she always feels a little bereft, pulling his pillow to her body so she can inhale his scent, remembering what color blue his eyes were the last time he woke up next to her.


	3. A Big Bump

_It turns out dialog isn't really my strong suit. That's probably because I write and edit technical stuff all day long and witty banter is not really what readers need when they're troubleshooting problems. _

_Or it could be because I'm a visual person rather than a verbal person. I write what I see in my head – in this case, Phryne and Jack, all alone, in the very first phase of their new relationship. They aren't doing a lot of talking when it's just the two of them. I don't know what this says about me, but there we are._

_I promise they will actually speak – to each other! – in the next chapter._

_Thank you to everyone for the reviews and PMs. I really appreciate you taking the time to tell me what you think or like about my story. It's a very scary and exhilarating feeling to put something you've created out into the world for everyone to see. For those of you who have read Dorothy Sayers, I feel like Harriet when she told the Dowager Duchess how apprehensive she was about meeting her for the first time: "If only I can face her and it really is all right, I shall have somebody I can talk to about Peter."_

-ooo-

_Phryne has teased Jack to the point of distraction and he has to think of a way to give her a taste of her own medicine. _

...

Jack closed the bedroom door and took a few seconds to try to compose himself enough that he could get down the stairs.

At the very least he needed to drape his overcoat over his arm to cover his crotch. He really did not want to run into any of the members of the household, or walk out the front door, with a raging erection outlined through his suit trousers.

Phryne had done something very, very wicked. She _knew_ he was running late. She _knew_ they didn't have time to make love after he shaved and brushed his teeth. As much as he enjoyed that she didn't seem to be able to keep her hands off him, he was going to spend the entire day pushing thoughts of her out of his head. And that was going to be damned near impossible after what she had just done to him.

...

Phryne sauntered back to the bed after he tugged her hand away, pouting and fluttering her eyelashes at him, exaggerating the sway of her hips she walked. She _knew_ he wouldn't be able to resist watching her walk away. When she reached the side of the bed she turned at the waist, her breasts outlined against the curtains behind the headboard. He _loves_ her breasts. The contrast between the white skin of her breasts and the changing colors of her nipples is enough by itself to give him an erection almost every single time.

She _had_ to make it worse by getting on the bed and kneeling, with her bottom facing him, while she arranged the pillows against the headboard. Good god, her bottom was almost as luscious as her breasts. Two perfect round buttocks tilted up, her knees far apart enough that he could see a hint of her center. He wanted her so much... Must stop thinking about her bottom… Time to put on his tie. Don't look at her, just grab the tie and start looping and push it up to his throat…

But he looked up and then couldn't stop looking because her game didn't stop there. She was nowhere near done driving him insane. When she quit playing her "flash her breasts and bottom at Jack" game she leaned back against the pillows, stretched her right leg out straight in front of her and bent her left leg at the knee. Then, then, god he could not believe she was doing this to him, she gave him her sultriest look and parted her legs slightly and stretched and arched her back and raised her arms above her head.

Good god. What a vision. Perfect round breasts. Perfect pink nipples. Shapely legs sheltering dark curls. All wrapped up in creamy white skin and nothing else. Just waiting there for him to do whatever he liked and there was absolutely _nothing_ he could do. He was _late_. He _had_ to get dressed. Deep breath. Swallow. Another deep breath. Eyes closed for a second. Anything to compose himself. Okay. Heart rate was going down a bit. Grab the waistcoat and button it as fast as he can. Done. Grab the suit jacket and get out of here _now_.

Oh god. He forgot to keep his eyes closed. She was cupping her breasts and pulling at her nipples so they perked up to him. Then she looked him straight in the eye and dipped her right hand between her legs and started stroking herself. He thought his brain would explode. Hell, he was afraid his cock would explode. He was mesmerized – her lips parted, her breasts lifting higher and higher as she breathed, her left hand roving harder and harder over her nipples, her right hand stroking faster and faster between her legs until she arched her body and pressed her hand down against her curls and gasped. Shoulders back, breasts trembling as she panted, left leg collapsed outward.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. He would never in a million years ever be able to get that sight out of his mind. He was almost angry she had done this to him – making him choose between taking her with five thrusts in under ten seconds or getting the hell out of the house and hoping his erection would subside by lunchtime. He opted for the latter. He should have chosen the former. Throughout the day his body betrayed him and he spent the entire day, in his office, trying to stay seated behind his desk. Jack loved Phryne beyond reason but he _could not _spend another day like today.

...

Phryne had plans that night that didn't include him, so when his shift finally ended Jack raced home, peeled off his suit and shirt, and collapsed on his bed so he could relieve himself of the burden she had placed on him. It took all of five minutes from the time he locked his front door to finding blessed relief when he spilled in his palm. Thank god, he thought as he cleaned himself up. Now he could think straight for the first time in hours. Now he could think about how to make her understand she _could not _do that to him again.

This wasn't going to be easy. There were two parts to the problem: First, she needed to feel like she was always in control of everything and everyone. Second, his body would betray him every single time. So. What to do. He distractedly ate the dinner his housekeeper had left for him, then poured a drink and settled down to think.

Think, Jack, think.

The easiest solution was to never, ever stay with her on a work night ever again. Hmmm. Jack didn't really like _that_ idea.

Tackle the second problem first – that was the easy one. He needed to control his body and the only way he could think to do that was to _not_ be on the edge before he started doing whatever it was he was going to do. Ah. His right hand was going to be his friend again. Not ideal, but he could live with that. At least now he had experience with what he was fantasizing about. Wait. Are you kidding me? Settle down. I have to think. I'll deal with you again later. He could not believe he was talking to his cock. Damn it.

Second problem dealt with, Jack turned back to the first problem. He had to think of a situation where he could arouse Phryne to distraction and then stop so she would be forced to think about _him_ for hours, unable to do anything about it. She needed to ache for him. For hours. She needed to feel like she was going to explode with no relief in sight. For hours. He might have to do something he had never done before. The question was, what was it and would he have the nerve to do it?

Wait. Why weren't they spending the evening together tonight? She was at a dinner. That could be the answer. Wait until she had another dinner to attend and… Hmmm. Jack trusted Phryne and thought she loved him but old habits die hard. These affairs invariably included men who where rich and more eligible than… No. No. He was _not_ going to think like that. They were in a committed relationship. He trusted her. Full stop.

Who else? What else? Who could distract her for hours without a gaggle of eligible men that didn't include him? Ah. Jane. Or Mac. Or Dot. He needed something she could not skip or wiggle out of her commitment. He needed something important but not serious. What he really needed was her schedule for the next few days.


	4. A Man With a Plan

_As promised, there __is__ dialog in this chapter. Not a lot, mind you, but some. _

_The only responses I can think of to your comments about the last chapter are biblical in nature? Oh ye of little faith._

-ooo-

_Jack has a plan to drive Phryne to distraction. _

...

Jack and Phryne hadn't seen each other since the morning she had teased him unmercifully.

He had been so busy they had barely spoken on the phone. He wanted to talk to her about it but he certainly wasn't going to do it over the telephone and he wasn't sure he would have a chance to get all the words out without interruption when he did see her again.

The more he wondered _why_ Phryne had done what she had done, the more he wondered if she just didn't know how to act in a relationship where she didn't need to try to control _everything._ Or if she really had no idea the effect she had on him. He _had_ kept that hidden from her for a very, very long time.

He had to make her understand how much he wanted her _and_ that he could not spend another day hiding behind his desk. He had to do it in such a way that she would take him seriously _and_ not feel defensive. He needed to take advantage of her intense sense of curiosity _and_ her equally strong impulse to protect the people she cared about – in this case him.

He had come up with a plan he was fairly certain would work. He knew what he wanted to say to her, and he knew what he was going to do.

...

He would be waiting in the bathtub in Phryne's bedroom when he heard her voice wafting up the stairs from the entry hall.

"Jack!" she would cry as she rushed into the bedroom. "Mr. B said you were here and …" She would stop talking and kneel beside the bathtub, the concern in her voice visible in her eyes.

"Phryne, I'm fine." he would respond. "I came by with a file for you to look at before your dinner with Aunt Prudence. I fell asleep in the parlor waiting for you and Mr. Butler suggested I take a bath and get in bed. There's nothing wrong, I promise. I've just had a couple of very long days."

Utterly relieved there was nothing seriously wrong with him, she would let out a big breath and relax. She would probably pull the dressing table bench to the tub and sit down. They would chat about their days for a few moments, Phryne leaning in to kiss him and trail her fingers over his body, he doing his best to appear appreciative but exhausted. Mostly exhausted.

After five or ten minutes of trailing fingers and exhausted appreciation, she would extricate herself with a regretful "Jack, I _must_ hurry and change. Aunt Prudence will be here to pick me up any minute and I'm already running late."

Since he knew what running late when he had other things on his mind felt like, he would look appreciative of her attention and try to look convincingly exhausted as he kissed her fingers. "Don't worry. A bath and bed will do me a world of good. Mr. Butler will bring me something to eat. You hurry and get dressed."

Phryne would undress incredibly quickly and reach in the wardrobe for the dress she planned to wear – her best "rich and respectable" look. Standing in her camisole and knickers, deciding the stockings she had on were fine, she would turn to him to say something about not wanting to go to this silly dinner, about wanting to stay home with him, about…

She would stop talking when she saw him standing in the tub, water gleaming on his body, lamplight highlighting muscle and long limbs. She would watch him soaping himself, washing his chest and arms and belly. She would see him put the bar of soap back in its place and stand up straight again.

He would be surreptitiously watching her all the while, gauging her reactions. She had never been shy about expressing her appreciation for his body, verbally or otherwise, so he knew she would be intensely interested in what he was doing and what she was seeing. He guessed her eyes would glaze and her lips would part as she watched his soapy hand sliding down his length, pulling lightly for encouragement, then sliding beneath to his testicles, gently running his palm around them. Then he would lift one shoulder to wash under an arm, then the other, his cock presenting itself to her like a soapy treasure.

He could imagine watching the thoughts pass across her face – knowing there was absolutely _nothing_ she could do. He was _covered_ in soap. She was _late_. She _had_ to get dressed. She _could not_ skip this dinner. Oh god. He was washing himself again. But it would look like he was doing more than just washing. Now his eyes were closed and he was moving his hand as though…

Oh god, she would think to herself, I've _never_ seen Jack do that. That may be the most erotic thing I've ever…

She would take a sharp breath at Mr. Butler's gentle knock and "Miss Fisher? Mrs. Stanley is waiting downstairs." _Perfect_ timing Mr. B, he would think when Phryne answered "Yes, yes, I'll be right down."

He would lower himself into the water to rinse off all the soap as quickly as possible. A quick glance would show she was dressing hurriedly. Other than rustling silk, the room would be so quiet he could hear her breathing. His plan _must_ be working if she wasn't talking.

Figuring he had gotten all the soap off he could in the time available, and making sure he was still hard enough to make an impression, he would stand up in the tub and reach for his towel. Phryne would be dressed by that point and he would stand in front of her again, clean and dripping wet. She would be staring again, hardly able to breathe, thinking to herself she could not do anything unless she wanted to be horribly late. _And_ get horribly wet. _And_ incur her aunt's wrath.

At this point he would step out of the tub and start drying himself off from the top down. Hair, face, neck, arms, chest. Two steps over to kiss her cheek very lightly as though he didn't want to smudge her makeup or get water on her dress. Then back to drying himself – legs, then feet – and last, as she was still staring, between his legs.

Mr. Butler would knock again. "I'm sorry, Miss Fisher. Mrs. Stanley is insistent you leave right now."

Relieved that he could now embrace her properly without getting her wet, he would pull her to him gently and kiss her lips, taking special care to press against her body. He thought she would nuzzle his chest and reach down to touch him. "Phryne," he would say as he pulled her hand away, "you need to leave, _now_, before your aunt has a fit."

He would walk over to the bed, pull back the covers, and get in her favorite "wake Jack" position. "You look beautiful. Wake me when you get back and tell me how the evening went."

Phryne would reach for the doorknob, a look of longing on her face as she turned back to gaze at him. She would jump when Mr. Butler knocked again, startling her out of her reverie.

That man is worth his weight in gold, he would think.

When she came home she would say something about how frustrated she was before she went to dinner. Then he would tell her _he_ felt the same way the other day and ask her not to tease him like that again when he had to go to work. It was a simple plan.

...

There's one big problem with this plan, Jack thought. Teasing is one thing. Trickery is another thing altogether. I love Phryne and I don't want to base anything in our relationship on deception. I need to just show up and explain the problem to her. When she interrupts, and I know she will, I'll just keep talking.


	5. Revelation

_There are no gags or handcuffs in this chapter, but feathers __**are **__mentioned. _

_I said at the very beginning of this story I want Jack and Phryne to be happy together. I see them as two strong-willed, passionate adults working out how to take the next step forward together. _

_Thanks to everyone who read this story. I'm amazed that there were so many of you! I hope you enjoyed yourselves. And thank you again to everyone who reviewed and sent PMs. I really appreciate you taking the time to tell me what you thought_

-ooo-

_When Jack decides to play it straight with Phryne, how will she react? __Sometimes you just have to ask to get what you need._

...

Jack was dozing in bed when he heard Phryne talking to Mr. Butler in the entry hall and then heard her steps coming up the stairs.

She opened the bedroom door carefully, closed it softly behind her, and then walked over to him.

He stretched lazily for a few seconds and then scooted over a bit so she could sit beside him.

"Jack! Are you all right? I wasn't expecting to see you until tomorrow."

He sat up so he could kiss her, softly at first, then deeply. "I'm perfectly fine. You know what a tough week it's been – we've hardly spoken on the phone or seen each other. I'm very glad to see you now." He kissed her neck. "You look beautiful. How was the dinner?" He kissed her again, gently pushing her wrap from her shoulder so he could run his hand down her bare arm.

Convinced that nothing was wrong, Phryne responded to his kisses and questions while running her fingers over his chest and arms and shoulders, then began lightly stroking his erection, which had begun when the kissing started, and was now wholeheartedly clamoring for attention.

Lying back down, he closed his eyes, letting her see and hear how much he enjoyed what she was doing.

Mmmm. _Now_, he thought, reluctantly pulling his consciousness back from the haze of sensation and desire Phryne's fingers were building. Start talking _now_.

He smiled at her and pulled her to him for a deep kiss, keeping her close. They started speaking at the same time.

"Phryne, there's something I need to talk about with you. I didn't want to wait until…"

"Jack, I'm _so_ happy to see you. Are you staying with me tonight? I'd love it if you..."

"Phryne. Please stop for just a minute."

"...did. Why don't…"

"_Phryne_." Jack sat up again and caught the underside of her chin with one finger. Head tilted down to her, dark eyes gazing up at her from under his eyelashes. "I want to hear everything you have to say. But let me finish first, please." Raising his eyebrows the tiniest bit, eyes widening, watching her until she gave a tiny nod.

"I need to talk to you about teasing me before I go to work. I was so distracted the last time I left here I couldn't even do paperwork."

Phryne thought back for a second and then gave him a look of disbelief mingled with affection. "Jack, what was the problem? Surely I just gave you something more pleasant to think about than paperwork."

He let out a huff of breath. "For one thing I could barely walk down the stairs when I left here. It was worse than before we became lovers. We need to decide…"

Her eyes widened. What was he hinting at? "What do you mean, worse than before we became lovers?"

"Phryne. I want you all the time. I have for a long time. Most nights I couldn't sleep without dreaming about you. But the other morning…"

"Jack? Before we… did you… by yourself?" Being at a loss for words was not a state Phryne usually found herself in, but it sounded like Jack was on the verge of admitting something they had never talked about and she was far too intrigued to be articulate.

_And there's her curiosity kicking in_, he thought. He took a deep breath to forge ahead but Phryne got there first again.

"Tell me?"

It was his turn to give her a look of disbelief mingled with affection. "What do you think?"

"_Jack_. _Please?_"

Hmmm. It might help make his point. I told myself I was going to keep talking when she interrupted, he thought, but I'm glad I had the drink Mr. Butler offered before I came upstairs. "Take off your dress and get in bed with me."

He waited until she was naked and pressed close to his side, one leg curled over his. "The painting started it all."

There was a smile in Phryne's voice when she said "And you said you weren't blushing!"

He closed his eyes and smiled ruefully. "Believe me, I could not get out of your parlor fast enough! You looked so luscious and desirable – you became my dream. But your fan dance was the final straw. I woke up that night needing a wash. When it happened the next night and the night after, I decided to, umm, start taking care of the problem _before_ I went to sleep. My laundry bill would have been outrageous otherwise."

"_Every_ night Jack?"

"Not _every_ night. But often enough." He wrapped her fingers around his length and held her hand in place, moving their hands together so she could feel the effect his words were going to have.

"Watching your fan dance, when I could see your bare skin and legs, I wondered what it would feel like to touch you all over. How it would feel to have your legs wrapped around me. What it would feel like to be inside you." Adjusting her hand so just her fingertips were sliding skin over hard length.

"You already know how much I love your breasts. They're exquisite. When you sat on my lap I wanted to pull your blouse off and bury my face in them. I wanted to kiss you every time I looked at your lips." Holding her fingertips tighter, still sliding.

"Watching you pull your skirt up to get your dagger. Or rolling your stockings down when you skinned your knees. And my god, your bottom in trousers. In that little feathery thing. In anything, really." Wrapping her fingers around again, moving harder.

"I meant what I said about wanting you all the time. You've been in my thoughts and dreams for months." He was as hard as he could be when he stopped and held her hand very still.

"You know how close I am right now. One move and I'll tip over the edge. This is how I felt the other day when I had to leave after I watched you touch yourself. I couldn't do my job. I can't go to work feeling like that again. We need to wake up earlier when I stay here on work nights or I need to stay at my own house. Which would you prefer?"

Then there was nothing but the sound of Jack's breathing while he waited for Phryne's answer.

It was a simple question. He thought he knew how she would respond. But she was so quiet for so long Jack started to worry.

...

Phryne was completely taken aback by what Jack had said. When they first became lovers she was delighted he wasn't shy about _showing_ her how he felt about her and wanted her. But he wasn't overly talkative at the best of times and he had never said anything about wanting her so much for so long. As for the other morning, he was so good at deflecting and ignoring her flirting she assumed he was immune to most of what she threw at him. Apparently not. This was more than just intriguing, it was a revelation. Time for one of her own.

"Jack, there's something you should know too." She gently extricated her hand and her voice was quiet. "Would you turn towards me?"

When Jack turned to face her she reached for his hand and guided his fingers between her thighs. She was so wet his fingers slid effortlessly through her curls. "This is how I've felt about you ever since the beach at Queenscliff."

This was not the response he was expecting – she had teased him a few times about how much she liked his bathing suit, but hadn't really said anything else about their day at the beach.

"When I watched you walk towards me from the water, and you stood in front of me, dripping wet…" She traced a line from his throat down to tangle her fingers in the hair on his chest. "I could barely breathe. I wanted to rip your suit off and wrap my legs around you right there in front of everyone."

It was Jack's turn to be stunned. She had flirted with him since the day they met but this was something else entirely. He had no idea she wanted him so much. "All I remember is you giving me a saucy once over and grabbing the dagger."

She lifted his hand to her breast and brushed his thumb over her nipple. "Yes. I wanted to feel your hands on me" and moved his hand down to her belly "I wanted to feel your skin against mine" and moved his hand to her curls. "I wanted to feel you inside me. I feel that way about you all the time. When I watched you dress the other day, I didn't think, Jack, I just reacted. I _know_ how important your work is. I promise I won't tease you before you leave for work. We'll just have to wake up earlier."

He felt a combination of relief and wonder wash over him like a wave. "Thank you. It's almost impossible to resist you as it is and I really don't want to be apart from you any more than I already have to be. Of course, if we have to wake up earlier we should probably go to bed earlier. Any problems with that?"

Phryne started laughing softly. "None at all. I love the way you wake me. But Jack, when I do this" she nuzzled his chest, inhaling deeply "all bets are off. I _will_ have my way with you!"

"I've always wondered about that. What…?"

"It's you, Jack! It's everything I love about you distilled into one scent. It makes you absolutely irresistible to me."

He laughed with her "Now I know _exactly_ what it means, I'll be prepared for any and all eventualities!" and pulled her closer, wanting to feel all of her skin against all of his, kissing her deeply again and again to show her how much he loved her and wanted her.

An idea bubbled up through Phryne's mind and surfaced above the fog of love and desire. "Inspector, what do you think about recreating the scene of my crime?"

"That's an excellent idea, Miss Fisher. But let's save it for another time." Jack pulled her leg over his hip. "I really don't want to wait any longer and we have to get up early tomorrow."

...

They were drifting off to sleep when Phryne remembered something.

"Jack? You do realize I'm not going to stop teasing you at other times."

She was pressed so close to him she could feel his response as well as hear it. "Mmmm. I hope not."

-ooo-

_A/N: __Where I live summer has begun in earnest and it will only get worse for the next three months. It's already too hot to do anything outside between 8 am and 8 pm and the humidity and bugs just add to the misery. Writing this story was such a great distraction that my plan is to stay indoors and write another one. A happy one because there's enough angst and turmoil in real life. Phryne __**will**__ tease Jack – and – he will tease her. But they will be games that bless. That's a phrase from Firebird9's brilliant story 'Break My Heart Tomorrow.' If you haven't read it, go find it. If you have read it, it's even better the second or third time around._

_The saga continues with The Charm of One Detail._


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